


Loneliest Light

by ViridianJane



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Drabbles, M/M, One Shot, Soulmates, Supernatural Elements, Superpowers, Time Travel, but it's all a little vague, time jumper!Neil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-05-28 02:10:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15038372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViridianJane/pseuds/ViridianJane
Summary: Millport, Arizona, is a lonely town. Houses are empty and left crumbling, letting Neil find a space to call his own amongst the rats and the crows and the dust.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from A Fine Frenzy's _The Beacon_.
> 
> _Burning beacon in the night_   
>  _Can't feel its heat or see its lights_   
>  _That single solitary guide_   
>  _It must get lonely there sometimes_
> 
> This story is a collection of drabbles based on the thought of 'if Neil knew the entire time that within the year he would meet his father again, what would make him stay?'
> 
> And then it spiralled a little, threw in some superpowers and soulmates, and here we are.
> 
> I have a few chapters written already, but once that's done I'll only be updating as inspiration strikes.
> 
> Thank you for reading!

Millport, Arizona, is a lonely town. Houses are empty and left crumbling, letting Neil find a space to call his own amongst the rats and the crows and the dust.

_What was this neighbourhood like, when it was alive?_ Would the air have been heavy with summer and saturated with laughter? Would it be a vibrant, loud, safe place?

_But how does a place become somewhere safe and vibrant and happy?_ Neil isn't familiar with the mechanics of a happy home, much less a happy neighbourhood, so how should he know what would _make_ one?

Perhaps all it would take is the absence of the Butcher of Baltimore.

Neil would try it, he decides. If he could. Just to see what it would be like. To be normal. But he's not very good at controlling where he goes, lately. It's been worse, since his mother died. Now he's... aimless. Lost.

Alone.

Playing exy helps. The physicality of it, the adrenaline - it helps to keep him in the present; grounded. When he's running across the court, he doesn't need the cracks in time to pull him in and take him away - on his own two feet, he can fly.

Months pass - the final buzzer goes and Neil's stomach is bruised when the butt end of a racket slams into his gut.

"Goddammit, Minyard. This is why we can't have nice things."

"Oh, Coach," someone says over Neil's head, "If he was nice, he wouldn't be any use to us, would he?"

"He's no use to us if you break him, either."

Neil blinks once -  _ugly, fluorescent lights overhead; a hand on the back of his neck. Blood, blood on the mirror, blood on the tiles. Happy 19th Birthda -_  twice, and Andrew Minyard towers over him, the tightness of his grip on the stolen racket betraying the blankness of his expression.

Andrew Minyard's ability presses him to the ground, holding him captive and making his stomach churn. He radiates power and strength, and to Neil it wouldn't have felt any different if Andrew had his hand wrapped around his throat.

He tosses the racket to his other hand and tilts his head, feigning curiosity. He pokes Neil with the racket, and does something with his face that might have been a smile had it not been so sharp or so wicked.

"Hello, rabbit."


	2. Chapter 2

"Luggage?"

Neil shrugs his shoulder, gesturing to his duffel bag. "This is it."

Aaron doesn't say anything on their way to the car, and as Neil climbs in he feels the tell-tale tugging behind his navel that lets him know he's going to jump soon. He settles into the passenger seat quickly, not willing to risk slipping in a position that would be too noticeable.

Nothing like _hi I’m a time jumper_ as a first impression.

He slams the door shut and he's ripped from the present, pulled backwards into a void.

Usually, he has no say in where he goes, nor _when_. But there's something different about this time, something that makes Neil want to pause and _think_. He spins around, looking for the _something_ in the dark surrounding him, and sees a light. It's warm and bright but small, nothing more than the flickering of a candle. As he inhales, he tastes cigarettes and a sweetness that makes him think of home rather than fire and sickness. It makes his heart pound and anticipation makes his hands shake, but he can't figure out _why._

He knows he probably shouldn't approach it, whatever the strange light is, but just like the thrill of the game compelled him to sign his life away to the Palmetto State Foxes, the light compels him to move closer.

He reaches out to touch the light, and is surprised that it's a tangible thing; as he pulls his fingers away from it, soft, golden dust follows. _Huh._

He lowers his hand again, curious now, but the tugging behind his navel becomes more insistent and he clenches his fists, bracing for impact, and —

"Neil? What the _fuck?_ Neil —"

"Wha — how did you get here? And _what_ are you wearing?"

" _Bloody Hell, Josten._ "

Voices, smells, textures he doesn't recognize overwhelm his senses. He blinks, trying to focus, but strong hands grip him by the back of his shirt and pull him across a room until his back is against the wall. A door slams shut, and Neil tries to swallow the panic down, down, _down._

He's in a dark motel room, packed too tightly with people he doesn't know. People who are looking at him, _seeing_ him.

"I —" he chokes, but his lungs don't seem to want to cooperate. _I'm in the future, and these people know me._ "Where —"

"What do you mean, where? We're in Baltimore —" Everything else after those few words are lost to him, the very air around him beginning to vibrate as Neil sinks into a panic. The girl with the cropped dark hair on the other side of the room is still talking, and through the haze he can hear the words _the FBI, get-up, not since December, Neil you're_ seriously _freaking me out_.

_Baltimore. FBI._ Neil can't feel his legs, and next thing he knows he's on the ground in a crouch, head lowered so he’s looking at the floor instead of at the people who seem to know him. There’s someone in front of him, and — _warm, flickering like a candle, cigarettes and —_ a hand slides behind his neck and squeezes; he takes a breath. _Andrew._

He frowns. _How do I know that?_

His eyes open a fraction, and surprise opens them completely. Andrew glows, warmth radiating from him like a heartbeat. He can't look away, and from the way Andrew's eye's widen ever so slightly, he knows what Neil's realized.

Anger sharpens his gaze. "I hate you."

Confusion, fear, surprise and _hope_ all battle for dominance, so overwhelming that Neil is rendered speechless.

A _soulmate_. For _him._

He lifts his hand to touch, but stops before contact, a voice in the back of his head saying _not yet, not yet,_ and he whispers "It’s so —“

_Warm._

He blinks, and he's back in the car passenger seat. His hands are shaking and his lungs feel too small for his chest. Darkness claws at his consciousness and panic makes his feet itch for the closest escape route.

The car swerves dangerously on the road, and Neil focuses on the driver beside him. He can see what he couldn't before, now. There's a light, golden and warm, but _sharp_ , and the effect it has on Neil is immediate; he realizes he's made a mistake. The hands gripping the steering wheel are white knuckled and scarred, and for a moment Neil can feel their heat, feel their callouses slide along the skin of his neck. _What have I done?_

This is Andrew.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

_Soulmate_ is a loose term.

 _Soulmate_ implies that you’re paired from birth, born to be each other’s other half.

But no one is born without half of their soul, comfortable in their knowledge that one day they’ll get it back, bringing a partner and lover and confidant with it.

Instead you’re born whole, and lose yourself to someone else (inch by inch by inch).

 _You also receive in return, but that’s not what’s important, not to Mary, not when soulmates and powers and things that are_ other _are only distractions, are dangerous and_ -

Usually, it happens before you're even aware of it. Your ability changes, morphs, melds until it's too late to go back; two abilities become one. Night and day meet in a marigold sunrise and an indigo sunset.

The realization, the _recognition,_ steals the air from his lungs. Meeting Andrew felt like fire and fear and the abyss; their second meeting, only a few weeks — _ten months later_ — feels like coming home.

Neil has never been attracted to anyone. He’s never thought of sex, of touch, of intimacy; any time his eyes linger, his ribs throb with phantom pains in time with his mother’s fists, feels nails pulling and tearing at his scalp.

And so, he was never interested.

Knowing that before the ground thaws with spring next year that he'll taste the steel of his father's knives should make him run, leave everything behind and never look back.

But even a minute in that dark motel room was enough to slow the drumming of his heart, was enough to stop the tempest long enough for him to take a breath.

And it was terrifying.

The hand on the back of his neck was an anchor, a peace that Neil has never known in his life.

 _Hope_ is not something Neil is familiar with. He is still sitting in the passenger seat of the car, but it feels as though his centre of gravity has shifted; instinctually he knows that if – _when-_ he jumps he won’t go far.

He can feel it now- _home_ -buried deep under the rage and fire of Andrew's ability. It pulls at something hidden behind his ribs, and his fingers curl in on themselves until his palms bleed crescent moons.

But it might be worth the blood and the fear, to finally be at peace, he thinks. So he'll sink, and let the hand on the back of his neck pull him down until he breathes his last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> So, my AU is probably not very clear based just on this little bit, but as I post more chapters more little details will be revealed. 
> 
> Andrew's ability, in my mind, is something very protective - like forcefields and such. People's abilities develop based on what someone needs or wants most. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
